Missing Dixie(50)

“Gav, you forgot to get a tow—”

Dixie halts the second she sees me standing there in all of my buck-naked glory. I drop my cock but he remains standing at attention.

She just stands there, dumbstruck and holding a folded white bath towel. Pink heat sweeps across her cheeks and I want to laugh at first at how shy she seems even though she’s seen me naked before. Recently.

“Thanks, Bluebird,” I say, reaching for the towel and setting it on the rack beside the wall.

“I thought you were in the shower already,” she whispers. Dixie’s eyes drop to my dick and then she averts her gaze quickly and stammers. “Um, okay then. I’ll just grab these and, um . . .”

She leans down to get my clothes off the floor and my dick salutes her as she lowers her face to his level.

“Careful, Bluebird,” I say when I see her lick her lips and then bite that delectable bottom one. “I’m going to behave myself this evening. He may not. He definitely won’t if you keep looking at him like that.”

She stands upright and her entire energy has shifted from nervous girl who accidentally walked in on her brother’s best friend naked to confident, bold-as-hell woman who knows what she wants and is about to take it.

Retreat, soldier. I repeat, retreat now while you still can.

Fucking won’t help us.

Well . . . it might temporarily alleviate some of the tension. But I know how this night is going to go. I’m going to tell her everything, even the shit Dallas said I should keep to myself. I would’ve waited until after the battle of the bands if Carl Andrews hadn’t f*cked up my whole world.

But when her eyes meet mine and I see it—the hunger and need blooming and swirling in her darkening eyes—I know it doesn’t matter either way. She’s strung as tightly as I am from all the recent insanity. She needs a release and she wants me to give it to her.

What my Bluebird wants, my Bluebird gets.

I just need to give her answers first.





19 | Dixie

GAVIN AND I have gotten pretty good at silent conversations over the years.

We’re having one right now.

From the moment I saw him in the Tavern months ago, I have been in pain. A deep, wounding brand of pain that saturated my soul and seeped into the marrow of my bones.

I am in love with someone who is not good for me. Someone with darkness and addictions and more secrets than I can even imagine.

And I love him.

And love him.

And just when I think I can’t, I love him some more.

Somewhere out there is a guy, an Afton Tate type who would make me laugh and come over and bring pizza and we’d have all-night jam sessions and really sweet and enjoyable sex and live happily ever after.

I have absolutely no interest whatsoever in meeting that guy. Ever.

I’ve probably met him a dozen times over already.

It’s this beautiful, tortured man in front of me that I want more than I want air or water or food.

That I will always want.

My heart belongs to his heart. And whether he thinks he deserves me or not, his soul is forever connected to mine.

“I’m not good enough. I don’t deserve you. I can’t give you happily ever after,” Gavin’s eyes tell me.

“You can and you will,” my eyes answer right back. Just in case he’s not picking up the telepathic message, without a word I remove every stitch of clothing I have on.

His eyes widen and his exposed cock jerks suddenly. I take a step forward but he puts his hand out to stop me.

“Blue—”

I cut off what we both know will be a futile attempt at protest and take his hand in mine, guiding him into the now-steamy shower behind me.

There are questions in his gaze as he watches me beneath the spray of water. I move backward enough so that there is room for us both. I grab the bar of soap from the shelf built into the wall and lather it into my hands until they’re covered with a thick, foamy layer of bubbles. Placing my hands on Gavin’s chest, I begin to wash him and finally he closes his probing eyes.

We can have a question-and-answer session after.

I need this.

He needs this.

Sometimes that’s all love is. Giving the other person what they need despite the price, despite the sacrifice or possibly painful outcome.

My hands glide across his chest, stroke up and down the thick bands of muscle on his arms, and linger across his chiseled abdomen.

“You’re beautiful,” I attempt to tell him with my appreciative stare.

He smiles and I know he knows.

I twirl my finger to let him know he needs to turn around and he complies. Leaning forward, he braces his arms on the wall while I scrub his back and legs.

His entire body twitches when I slip a soapy finger between the firm cheeks of his ass and I giggle.

“Easy,” he says under his breath.

I smack his right ass cheek lightly.

“There. All clean.” Next I step out of the line of the shower spray and watch while he rinses off.

I am wet in every way possible right now.

“My turn,” Gavin says evenly, palming the bar of soap I just returned to the tray.

He gives me a much more thorough washing than I gave him, covering every inch of my skin with his strong, soapy hands.

I moan involuntarily when he digs his fingers into the flesh on my thighs and again when he massages my neck and shoulders. I’m practically panting when his fingers begin tracing the taut peaks of my breasts. He’s behind me with his arms around me and I can feel his erection against my backside.